


It's Our Destiny (You've Got a Friend)

by SilverRose42



Series: Where We Belong [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BAMF Ginny Weasley, BAMF Hermione Granger, BAMF Luna Lovegood, BAMF Neville Longbottom, Books 1-7, Canon Rewrite, Canon deaths, Cedric Diggory Lives, Cedric Diggory is not a spare, Cho Chang is strong, Developing Friendships, Epic Friendship, F/M, Family, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Gen, Ginny gets Revenge on Riddle, Ginny is the BEST, Godric is worried sick, Harry doesn't crush on Cho, Harry's Saving People Thing, Helga loves her weapons, Male-Female Friendship, Not Canon Compliant, Portraits, Post-Second War with Voldemort, Quidditch, Revenge, Rowena loves her explosions, Salazar is good, Second War with Voldemort, Sirius Still Dies, Spans all seven books, Team as Family, Teenage Dorks, Triwizard Tournament, Yule Ball, he wants everyone to know he does not approve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-28
Updated: 2016-07-28
Packaged: 2018-07-27 09:18:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7612498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverRose42/pseuds/SilverRose42
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is a story floating out there, of a boy with a lightening scar upon his forehead, messy black hair, and the brightest green eyes you will ever encounter. He goes to a school of magic, gets sorted into Gryffindor, makes some friends, has no real adults on his side, and save the world. Upon doing all of this, he proceeds to get the job he’s always dreamed of, marries the girl, has three children, and everything goes right for him for the rest of his life. There is no way for his story to move forward from this point.</p><p>So let’s tell a different story.</p><p> </p><p>OR: The one in which the Founders have portraits, and Harry makes a lot of friends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Our Destiny (You've Got a Friend)

There is a story floating out there, of a boy with a lightening scar upon his forehead, messy black hair, and the brightest green eyes you will ever encounter. He goes to a school of magic, gets sorted into Gryffindor, makes some friends, has no real adults on his side, and save the world. Upon doing all of this, he proceeds to get the job he’s always dreamed of, marries the girl, has three children, and everything goes right for him for the rest of his life. There is no way for his story to move forward from this point.

So let’s tell a different story.

Let’s tell the story of an abused little boy, one who has that lightening scar upon his forehead, with messy black hair that will not be tamed, and eyes that are a shade of green not found in nature.

Little Harry Potter still goes to Hogwarts; he’s still introduced to this world of magic by a kindly half-giant, and he still meets Draco Malfoy in that shop on that sunny day in Diagon Alley. Draco Malfoy remains a putz, and Harry still dislikes him.

He’s still a Gryffindor, and he still argued with the hat to get into that house, because he would be great in Slytherin, truly. But Draco Malfoy is still a putz, and Harry still has a grudge against him, because, much like Steve Rogers, Harry doesn’t really like bullies, and he can figure out who the right sort are, thank you very much.

His best friend is Ron Weasly, because there are some things you can’t change, not really, and loyalty is one of those things.

He still doesn’t have any adults on his side, not really. At least, not Dumbledore, the well meaning Headmaster, who can be kind, but has his own agenda.

Had young Harry been placed into Slytherin, Harry would know not to trust those with agendas, but alas, Harry is young, and he does trust Dumbledore, even if he has yet to meet the man.

It will take time for Harry to learn otherwise.

~*~

Many things progress the same way as they did before. Here’s where everything changes.

It changes with the duel. Or rather, it changes with the duel that wasn’t.

When Filch comes, the group of young Gryffindor’s run. Once they all stayed together, and the group ended up in a room with a three-headed dog that was guarding a trapdoor.

Now, it’s Harry that gets separated. Harry, who ends up in a different room; this one darker then the hallway.

It takes Harry a moment to catch his breath, and listen as Filch marches past the door. When he’s sure the caretaker is gone, he breaths a sigh of relief. And the promptly smacks into the wall.

“Hey, watch it will you? Some of us a trying to sleep here.” A woman’s voice floats thru the darkness, and startles Harry.

“Sorry, what,” he finally manages.

There’s a sigh. “Sleep, boy! Some of us are trying to!”

“Oh, do be quiet Helga. It’s been awhile since someone came a spoke with us! Would you chase away our only chance at human contact? Besides, we’ve been sleeping for ages.” A man spoke up this time, sounding fond, but irritated.

“That’s hardly true Sal,” Helga sniffed out. “I remember quite clearly that you and Ro were arguing about whether or not a dragon could be painted into your portrait without damaging you in the process.”

“I still say it would,” another woman piped up. She sounded rather petulant, Harry thought. A bit like Dudley sounded when he didn’t immediately get what he wanted.

A different man spoke up with a sigh. “Ro, hush. Besides, the last thing Sal’s portrait needs is a dragon in it.”

“Honestly Ric, I need a dragon,” Sal’s voice was eager. “It wouldn’t do nearly as much harm as a Basilisk, and you let me keep that!”

Ric groaned. “I seriously regret that decision, based on what you’ve managed to piece together recently.”

Harry couldn’t help but interrupt at this point. “Sorry, but what’s a Basilisk?”

The room is silent for a moment, before, finally, Ro speaks up. “Gods above, you’re still here?”

Sal snorts. “I doubt he found his way out without a light on. Go on then boy, give us some light. Let’s see who we’re talking to.”

Harry frowned. “My name’s Harry, not boy. And I would, but I don’t know the spell.”

“Don’t know the spell,” Sal sputtered. “Just what are they teaching you, boy?”

“It’s Harry,” Harry said firmly. “And they’re teaching levitation at the moment.”

“Oh, a first year.” That was Ro, and she sounded as if she was about to squeal with pleasure. “An untrained mind, ready to learn. The spell’s ‘Lumos,’ dear, no wand movement.”

“Lumos,” Harry said firmly, eager to catch a glimpse of his new companions.

The four portraits frowned at him. “Goodness,” Ric said finally. “You are young, aren’t you?” Ric was a broad shouldered man with dark red hair, and eyes like scarabs, frowning at him from a seat in a stunning garden. There’s a sword propped up against a trellis, but for the most part, there are tools that Harry sees in the Greenhouse scattered around.

Harry frowned. “I’m eleven. What’s a Basilisk?”

“A giant snake that can kill you if you look it in the eye.” Sal speaks up, and Harry turns to study him instead. Sal is tall and slender, dark hair pulled back into a ponytail. He’s sprawled in a chair, in what Harry recognizes as the Great Hall, except that there are bookcases pushed up against every wall. He’s also frowning at Harry. “You don’t look eleven.”

Harry, who had been expecting to be called boy again, simply shrugged. “What do I look like then?”

“You look like someone desperately in need of a meal,” Helga snaps, and when Harry looks at her, he sees what can only be a female version of Malfoy. She’s got pale blonde hair that’s been pulled into a braid, the palest skin Harry’s seen, and stormy grey eyes. She’s lounging on the floor of what looks to be an arena of some sort, complete with medieval weaponry lining the walls. “Did they quit feeding you here, or something?”

“If they did, there will be hell to pay,” Sal said cheerfully, looking murderous.

Harry shook his head, “No, it’s…” He froze as he heard Filch’s footsteps approach. When they didn’t stop, he breathed a sigh of relief.

“What was that all about?” Harry turned to face Ro, who was frowning down at him. A petite brunette in a lab was blinking at him curiously. She had icy violet eyes, and her eyebrows were furrowed, as though she had just come across some mystery that she desperately wished to unravel. “Are you in trouble?”

“I will be if I’m caught,” Harry informed her. “I’m out of bed, and its past curfew.”

“Why are you out past curfew,” Sal asked. “Sleep is important, if you want to get anything done.”

“I was going to duel someone.”

Helga leaned forward, suddenly interested. “Really? Did you win?”

Harry blinked at her. “Uh, no. He didn’t show. Ratted us out instead. Um, who are all of you?”

Helga frowned. “I’m Helga Hufflepuff,” she said. “And your challenger is a rat. A dishonourable rat.”

Harry blinked. “As in one of the founder’s of Hogwarts?”

Sal scoffed. “Who else would we be, boy?”

Harry frowned. “It’s Harry. And you could’ve been anyone, really. Professor Slytherin, I’m assuming?”

Sal balked. “None of that now. I am not your teacher; therefore, you are not required to call me Professor. Sal will do nicely.”

The elven-year-old gave him a little smirk. “If I call you Sal, you have to call me Harry.”

Sal sighed. “Very well. Harry.”

The boy in question gave a pleased nod. “If you’re the Founders, why are you all in here, and not out in public?”

Ric frowned. “I believe we’ve been forgotten about. What’s the year, Harry, if you don’t mind?”

“It’s 1991.”

Ric nodded. “It’s been over two hundred years then, since we last had company.”

Harry frowned. “That’s horrible.” He thought for a moment. “What if I came back to visit you? Then you’d have someone to talk to.”

Ro gave a slow, lazy blink. “Would you honestly do that? After all, you’ve only just met us.”

“Of course!” Harry’s outraged voice made her sit up a little straighter behind her desk. “Everyone deserves to talk to others. Besides, it’s not as though I don’t have free periods. So I won’t be compromising my sleep.” He gave a side glance to Sal, who was nodding slowly.

“As long as you’re getting enough sleep,” Ric said slowly. “If you really want too, I suppose it wouldn’t be a huge problem.”

“Then it’s decided,” Harry said firmly. “I’ll be back tomorrow.” And with that, he slipped out the door, leaving no room for arguments from the four portraits.

~*~

Later, Ron, Hermione, and Neville will all tell him about the three-headed dog and the trap door it’s guarding, but Harry doesn’t pay it much mind. After all, he’s got portraits to visit tomorrow.

~*~

True to his word, Harry is back the next day, cheerfully smiling as he drops his bag next to the door. It turns out there’s a window in the room, with curtains pulled over it, so he tugs the curtains open, allowing the sunshine to pour into the room.

Sal groans from his seat. “No. No light. Light bad. Make the bad light go away now.”

From her portrait, Helga is squinting down at him, and Ric is passed out in one of his flowerbeds.

Harry turns to Ro. “What happened to them?”

Ro doesn’t even glance up from the notebook she’s scribbling furiously in. “You see that cabinet in Helga’s portrait?”

“Yes?”

“It’s full of alcohol. And because it’s a portrait, every time you close it, it refills itself.”

Harry blinked. “So, they’re all hung-over?”

“Precisely,” Ro mutters, still scribbling furiously.

Harry stands there awkwardly for a moment, but when he realises that he’s not going to get any questions, he leans up against the wall, and starts on his homework. It’s nearly an hour later that someone finally speak up.

“Oh. You’re back.”

Harry smiles, even as he continues his essay. “Indeed I am. Good evening. Professor Ravenclaw, I assume?”

Ro gave a quick smile. “You assume correctly, young man, although you may call me Rowena.” She blinked. “How long have you been here, exactly?”

The boy shrugged. “An hour, give or take. You were busy, and the others are all hung-over, so I thought I’d get some work done.”

“How prudent of you,” Rowena said after a moment. “Sal would approve.”

“Wouldn’t know it with how he acts,” Harry muttered.

Rowena chuckled. “He cannot abide stupid people, and he really is the most practical of all of us. He’s the one who thought up the idea of this school, you know.”

The emerald-eyed boy blinked up at her. “I didn’t know, actually. All the textbooks say that you came up with it.”

Rowena frowned. “Gods, no. I’m far too distracted to ever actually do this. Not without help. And I certainly wouldn’t have thought up an entire school.”

“Oh.” Harry thought for a moment. “May I ask a question, Rowena?”

“If you do not ask, you will never learn,” Rowena told him. “Ask away, young man.”

“You know the Sorting Hat, yes?” At Rowena’s nod, he continued. “Does it mean anything, if you talk it into placing you into a different house then it’s initial choice?”

Rowena looked thoughtful. “A good question, young man.” She studied him for a moment. “Where did it wish to place you initially?”

Harry blushed. “Slytherin. It said that Slytherin would help me on my way to greatness. But I asked it to put me in Gryffindor instead.”

It was at this point that Sal interrupted. For a hung-over man, he was rather loud, Harry decided. “What do you mean you chose Gryffindor? Why would you do that?”

Harry blinked. “Because your house is currently full of bigots,” he finally decided on, though it came out as more of a question. “Bigots who don’t really like me.”

Sal froze before continuing. “Be that as it may, the Hat should never be questioned! It knows where you need to go, and where you will succeed. If you go with the wrong people, you will be stifled, and you will never achieve all that you were meant to achieve.”

Harry, who had steadily been turning scarlet with shame, bit his lip. “I’m sorry for not listening to the hat.”

Sal’s face softened. “It’s not that. It does take bravery to ask for a change. I just wish you would’ve taken your choice into more consideration.”

“What’s this about bigots then?” Ric had apparently woken up.

“Sal’s house is apparently full of them,” Helga said. She was frowning severely.

Harry shrugged. “They buy into blood-purity? And they say that there isn’t a dark witch or wizard that didn’t come from Slytherin House. Including the Founder himself.” Here he averted his eyes, refusing to look up at Sal.

Godric gave a groan. “What a crock. Sal’s a good man. A bit strange, but good all the same. He came up with the school, and as long as you have magic, he won’t refuse entrance to you.”

Sal sighed. “’Tis true I have no great love for Muggles. But I am not alone in this. At the time, they were trying to kill us off. Called us devil worshippers.”

Rowena shook her head. “As time goes on, history is often forgotten in favour of rumour and speculation.”

Harry thought about that for a long moment. “Well that’s horrible. Sal seems like a nice enough gentleman.”

Sal gave him a tight smile. “Don’t be so rash to believe that I am not dangerous, little Gryffindor.”

Harry blinked. “I didn’t say you weren’t dangerous. I just said that you were a gentleman.”

At his words, Sal barked out a short laugh. “I think I’m going to like you, boy.”

“It’s Harry, Professor Slytherin. Rowena?”

“Yes, dear?”

“You wouldn’t happen to know anything about the basic principle of transfiguration, would you? I’m almost done, with my essay that is, but I still don’t quite understand this one concept…”

Rowena grinned. “Well then, let’s walk through it together, shall we?”

And thus, Harry spent then next few hours deep in discussion with the Founder’s, easily working through the basic principles of something that, earlier in the day, he couldn’t grasp at all.

~*~

The days passed quickly enough. There had been a lot of yelling when Harry confessed that he was on the Quidditch team, mostly about him being far to young to participate in Quidditch.

The troll still occurred, and Harry still drug Ron into the Girl’s Bathroom to go rescue Hermione Granger. After all, there are some things that simply don’t change, no matter what universe you’re in.

Godric seems to spend most of time these days in a constant state of worry of Harry, particularly after the Troll Incident, and before his first Quidditch match.

When Godric heard that Harry had his broom cursed while several thousand feet in the air, nearly fell off, and then proceeded to nearly swallow the Snitch, he made a valiant attempt to claw his way out of his portrait to protect the young man, and was only stopped by Rowena, who claimed it to be an impossible feat.

Sal promptly reminded her that she did not believe that anything was impossible. She stuck her tongue out at him.

Harry wondered why the Founders were this immature.

~*~

After his midnight trip to the library, he’s back again, this time with questions about Nicholas Flamel burning in his head.

Helga looked considering when he asked them later. “Isn’t he the one who made the Philosopher’s Stone?”

Harry froze, turned, and ran out the door with a fast “Thank you,” behind him.

All four of them watched him as he fled, and Ric shook his head. “That boy is going to get himself killed.”

“Well, yes, most likely,” Sal said. “I don’t think he believes that there are people concerned for his well being.”

Rowena frowned. “So you two have noticed it as well?”

At the men’s nods, Helga groaned. “Just the other day he mentioned that he lived in a cupboard. A cupboard! Can you believe it?”

Sal’s eyes widened, and he huffed out a sigh. “This is why I don’t like muggles,” he muttered.

Ric frowned. “We’ll talk to him about it tomorrow. See if we can’t help him out.”

~*~

They didn’t see Harry the next day. Or the day after that. In fact, they were beginning to believe that Harry had forgotten all about them, right up until the door opened again, for the first time in weeks.

Harry’s voice came floating through. “No, really, there’s no need to be scared Neville, I swear.”

A different voice came floating through as well, just as young as Harry’s. “I trust you. I just wish you would tell me what’s so special about this room.”

Harry and his companion appeared in their lines of vision, and Harry grinned at all of them, arm in a sling, while his companion stopped short. “Harry,” he said softly. “Are these who I think they are?”

Harry turned his grin at the other boy. “I thought you might want to talk plants with Godric. But before that, Neville, meet the Founders.”

Neville blinked. “Hello,” he told them weakly. “I’m Neville.”

Ric gave a cheerful laugh. “Hello Neville! Harry mentioned plants?”

Neville almost immediately relaxed, and went into a long-winded rant about what they had been doing in Herbology all year. Harry, meanwhile, sidled up to the other three. “Sorry I vanished.”

Rowena smiled gently at him. “It’s quite alright dear. Where did you go? I’m assuming you had a reason.”

Harry made a face. “Our Defence professor may or may not have had a Dark Lord attached to the back of his head. And said Dark Lord may or may not have been trying to steal the Philosopher’s Stone in order to resurrect himself. And I may or may not have tried to stop him by myself, and got sent to the Hospital Wing in the process.”

Sal groaned. “Why did you not get an adult?”

Harry rolled his eyes. “It’s not like we didn’t try. Dumbledore was at the Ministry, and nobody else would listen to us.”

Helga frowned. “You brought Neville with you?”

Harry shook his head. “Neville’s a Gryffindor. He tried to stop Ron, Hermione, and I from leaving. Hermione petrified him. He’s always so nervous though, and, well, I felt that he might benefit from meeting you. All of you, not just Godric.”

Helga glanced over at Neville, and her face softened. “He’s welcome here anytime.”

Harry relaxed. “Good. I’m glad.”

Helga smiled, and then shook her head. “But Harry, dear?”

“Yes?”

“If you ever pull something like this again, I will find a way out of this portrait, and lock you up somewhere safe for good.”

Harry’s grin was blinding. “Yes ma’am.”

~*~

Harry and Neville both left for the train soon after.

Both promised to visit upon their return to Hogwarts for the next year.

~*~

The first day of classes left both boys with a free period before dinner, during which they meandered their way up to visit the portraits.

Both settled in on the floor, and pulled out textbooks, fully prepared to ignore their actual work, and instead catch each other up.

Ric glanced up from his garden, and grinned. “Is it September already? Welcome back boys!”

Sal snapped his book shut. “How was the summer?”

Helga plunged her sword into the training dummy. “Do tell us everything; it’s been so dull.”

And explosion occurred in Rowena’s portrait.

Harry snickered at Neville’s face, and when Neville whirled around to face him, he laughed. “Sorry Nev,” He managed. “I get that Rowena can be a tad frightening at first, but it’s just funny to watch.”

Neville relaxed more. “Good to know you find that funny. My summer was okay. Gran pretty much ignored me.”

Harry shook his head. “I wish I had your summer. My Aunt and Uncle locked me in my room, Ron rescued me in a flying car, and a house elf tried to stop me from coming back to Hogwarts.”

Neville blinked. “Harry. Have you ever tried to live a normal life?”

Harry sighed. “Trust me, I wish I did have a normal life. Why would it be dangerous for me to come back to Hogwarts?”

“Maybe it’s because last time you nearly died,” Sal snarked, before sobering. “That doesn’t explain why a house elf would be the one to warn you though.”

Helga shrugged. “Whatever’s going to happen will happen. We can’t do anything to stop it yet.”

~*~

“Sal?”

“Harry, Neville. You both look like you’ve seen Death himself.” Sal frowned at them, and put his book down. “What on Earth happened?”

Harry shook his head. “Last year, when I first met you, you mentioned something about a Basilisk. Is there any way it’s still around?”

Sal looked pensive for a moment. “Most likely. Basilisk’s live quite a long time.”

Neville took a deep breath. “Could a basilisk petrify something?”

Sal’s eyes narrowed. “It could, as long as you looked it in the eyes indirectly. Through a reflection or something.” Harry and Neville exchanged a look. “Boys, what’s going on?”

“There was a message on the wall,” Neville said softly. “The Chamber of Secrets has been opened. Enemies of the Heir Beware.”

“And Mrs. Norris, Filch’s cat, was petrified,” Harry added on.

Sal froze. “Only a parseltounge could open the Chamber.”

Harry tilted his head. “Parseltounge?”

“Someone who can speak to snakes,” Neville told him. “Sal’s one of the most famous ones there is, so obviously everyone assumes it to be a dark trait. Voldemort was one as well.”

“I thought a snake spoke to me once,” Harry said cheerfully. “At the zoo. I was telling it how horrible my cousin was, and then it agreed with me. And then I accidentally vanished the glass, and it thanked me.”

Now Neville and Sal were both staring at Harry. Finally, Sal started to hiss. Harry hissed back. Neville groaned. “Of course you speak parseltounge.”

Harry thought about that for a moment. “Well that explains that then. Something was speaking in the walls. Hermione and Ron couldn’t hear it. But if it’s a rare trait that I have, that would explain why they couldn’t hear it. Huh.”

“Don’t tell anyone about it,” Sal advised. “If it’s considered dark now, they’ll think you’re my heir, and that wouldn’t be good. May I also recommend looking surprised if and when others find out?”

“You may indeed,” Harry sighed. “Why can’t my life be normal? I never opened that Chamber, I swear.” For this, he turned to Neville.

Neville rolled his eyes. “I know you didn’t.”

Harry frowned. “Sal and Helga are rubbing off on you.”

Neville grinned in response.

~*~

“Colin’s been petrified.” Harry sounded dejected.

Helga raised an eyebrow. “I thought you didn’t like him.”

“That doesn’t mean I want him petrified! Honestly, I’d much rather it had been Lockhart.”

“Don’t talk to me about that man,” Neville muttered as he slumped against the wall. “Cornish Pixies.”

Harry groaned. “Sorry about the chandelier.”

“Not your fault,” Neville sighed. “Lockhart, honestly. What was Dumbledore thinking?”

~*~

“So, I’ve been helping Hermione brew Polyjuice Potion,” Harry began conversationally.

Neville blinked. “Harry, one day you will learn to never begin sentences like that. You nearly re-killed Godric.” He gave a nod to the portrait who was, indeed, looking very pale.

Sal however frowned. “Why on Earth have you been doing that?”

Harry shrugged. “We thought your heir might have been Malfoy. Slimy git.”

Helga sighed. “Don’t swear. If you pick up a habit of it, you’ll get into trouble.”

Harry blushed. “Sorry Helga. Anyway, it wasn’t him. And he’s no idea who it might be. In other news, everyone else seems to think it’s me.”

“They discovered the Parseltounge,” Neville told the others.

“I’m blaming Lockhart,” Harry said cheerfully.

“Malfoy’s the one who conjured a snake,” Neville reminded him.

“Yes, but Lockhart’s the one who insisted upon the Duelling Club to begin with. The only educational bit of that entire experience was watching Snape take Lockhart down.”

Rowena blinked. “And what was educational about that?”

Harry grinned. “I got to see what an idiot looks like when he’s been beaten.”

~*~

“Hermione’s been petrified. Sal, please tell me you know who your heir is?”

“I’m sorry Harry.”

~*~

Neville appeared alone this time; a rare occurrence for him. “Harry won’t be coming for awhile. He’s back in the hospital wing.”

Helga sighed. “At least he sent you along to inform us of this. What’s he done now?”

“He got bit by the Basilisk.”

Sal blinked. “And he’s still alive?”

Neville shook his head. “I’ve no idea how he does it, I swear. But Madame Pomfrey swears he should pull through.” Here he took a deep breath. “Also, it was Ginny Weasley, who was being possessed. She opened the Chamber, and, well, Harry and I have been talking. We think that we want to introduce her to you, if that’s all right.”

Godric looked considering. “Wait awhile,” he said finally. “Until next year. Harry should have waited too, I think. Give it some time to settle first.”

Neville nodded. “I’ll pass it along.”

~*~

Harry slipped in the night before he had to leave for the summer. “I’m sorry that I worried you again.”

Helga sighed. “At least Neville informed us of what was going on.”

Sal frowned. “He also mentioned something about possession?”

Harry groaned. “Tom Marvolo Riddle. Lord Voldemort. That’s your heir. Somehow he was possessing Ginny Weasley through a diary.”

Sal’s face immediately shuttered. “I do not approve of this.”

Harry shook his head. “I know. Just…be prepared to defend yourself to her. Because I do want you to meet her. I think that she’ll need it.”

~*~

“Hello boys,” Sal smiled warmly. “And how were your summers?”

“Boring,” Neville shrugged. “Gran took me up to Scotland. Dunno why though.”

Harry shrugged as well. “I inflated my Uncle’s sister, ran away from home, and ended up meeting the Minister of Magic. Same old same old really.”

Sal sighed. “Of course it is for you. Any more thoughts on the young Miss Weasley?”

Harry hesitated. “She seems quiet. But maybe that’s just me? Ron says she’s got a celebrity crush.”

Neville shook his head. “I’ve know the Weasleys for years. Ginny was never this quiet.”

Sal thought for a moment. “You two think this’ll help her?”

Harry shrugged. “I think Rowena will help her. But, I’m fairly certain that Rowena can do anything.”

Sal huffed. “That is more or less an accurate statement.”

Neville glanced around at the three empty portrait frames. “Where are the others anyway?”

Sal grinned. “I do believe that Rowena herself is off trying to discuss something with the knocker of her tower. Godric may be somewhere playing cards? And Helga is, of course, duelling with Sir Caddigon.”

Harry sighed. “Of course they are. Why don’t you ever leave?”

“And do what, exactly?” Sal rolled his eyes. “I assure the both of you, I am quite comfortable here, with my library.”

“You do seem to fill Rowena’s stereotype,” Neville told him. “No matter. So, we pull Ginny in?”

Harry nodded. “I think it’s for the best.”

Sal tilted his head. “Then by all means. Go ahead.” He gave them a long look. “We trust your judgement.”

~*~

Harry was right in thinking that Sal would have to justify himself to Ginny. But Sal eventually won her over.

Ginny struck up a quiet relationship with Rowena, who answered all of her questions, and showed her how to blow things up. She began to relax; curling up beneath blankets on the first cold winter days, scribbling out potions essays with help from Godric, and listening to Rowena argue magical theory with Sal.

She asks Helga to teach her how to protect herself, and Helga smiles, and teaches her shield charms and hexes that are strong enough to keep people away.

Rowena sits her down, and cheerfully lets loose a torrent of puns, before showing her how to make a controlled potions explosion.

Ginny laughs for the first time in over a year when Fred and George go racing down the stairs on their brooms, and smash into the wall. Harry thinks it’s the best sound he’s heard this year, and the twins obviously agree, because they promptly begin to act overdramatic, which only makes Ginny laugh harder.

The twins later corner Harry and Neville, and thank them, but they also express worry.

“Whatever you’re doing, it’s helping,” Fred tells them quietly.

“But it still doesn’t seem right that she’s going back to normal this fast,” George adds on. “Especially since we haven’t been able to help until now.”

Harry and Neville exchange a glance, before leading the twins to the Founders. “They’ve been helping more than we have,” Neville explains, even as Rowena gives a cheerful wave to the four of them.

The twins strike up a quick friendship after that, often spending their breaks with the portraits as well.

Harry, Neville, and Ginny all traipse in soaking wet after the disastrous Quidditch match against Hufflepuff, shivering as they all peel off wet robes, and grab blankets. The twins are quick to follow, and they come bearing mugs of hot chocolate, and all sorts of sweets from the kitchens.

Godric was about to ask what on Earth had happened to them, when the door creaked open once more. They all turned and started, as Cedric Diggory poked his head in. Upon seeing the twins and Harry, he looked relieved, although, he too, was soaking wet.

“Hey,” he said quietly, as he shut the door behind them. “I just wanted to apologize, Potter. You deserved the win, and there should be a rematch due to interference, and whatnot, but Madame Hooch won’t agree. I’m sorry about your broom, as well.”

Harry blinked. “I…thanks Diggory.”

Cedric nodded, and looked pained for a long moment. “Would it be too much trouble if I just stayed here? Hufflepuff wants to celebrate, but I’m really not in the mood – I still feel awful from those things.”

Harry glanced around the room, and received a bunch of shrugs in return. “Yeah, have a seat.”

“We’re drowning our sorrows in hot chocolate and sweets,” Fred piped up. “Since none of us are particularly happy right now.”

Godric choose that moment to speak up. “What on Earth happened at the match? You all looked like drowned rats, and you seem to think the sun will never shine again!”

Cedric froze. “Are these who I think they are?” At the resounding affirmation, he blinked, and turned towards the founders. “Dementors were at the game. Harry fell off his broom.”

“Gin fainted,” Neville added on,” and Cedric frowned as Ginny scooted closer into George’s side, from where she was nestled in between her brothers.

“Dementors? They have Dementors _here_? Are they insane?” Cedric glanced up to see the woman who must have been Helga Hufflepuff speak up, and start to rant. Eventually, she wound down, but Rowena piped up with her own questions.

Cedric found a mug of his own being pushed into his hands, and began to relax as the conversation around him began to pick up. He knew in his gut that this was the beginning of something amazing.

~*~

“Sirius Black is my godfather,” Harry announces morosely one afternoon to the entire group.

The room has changed quite a bit since he discovered it three years ago. There’s almost always a fire in the fireplace now. Between the six of them, they’ve managed a mismatched set of chairs, and a couple of tables, and a couch. It’s the couch that Ginny looks up from, and says, “Oh, _Harry_. I’m so sorry.”

The twins nod along, looking pained.

“How do you know,” Cedric asks him softly, so Harry tells them the whole story, including the bit about the Marauders Map.

Sal frowned. “That seems like a dangerous item to have. What if Black gets his hands on it?”

The twins, however, shake their heads. “Black’s gotten in without it before, remember? He doesn’t need it.”

Sal sighed. “This is only going to end badly,” he muttered.

~*~

Sal was right, of course. There was the fiasco with the Firebolt, and the argument about Scabbers, and everything else in between. Harry learned how to cast a half-hearted patronous, but he doubted it would help him all that much.

The map got taken away by Lupin, which was probably the worst thing that could have happened to it, because soon after, Ron got drug down the Whomping Willow, with Harry and Hermione quick to follow.

The whole thing happened quickly, Harry got thrown back in time, and cast a stunning patronous.

He eventually ended up back where he started though.

~*~

“Sirius Black is innocent,” Harry informed them all.

Sal raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Harry said tiredly. “Peter Pettigrew is the one who actually did all that stuff.”

Helga tilted her head. “Why didn’t anyone know before now?”

“Apparently, Sirius never got a trial.”

“WHAT?” Helga’s shriek reverberated around the room, and she immediately began shouting about the incompetence of the wizarding world, and how everyone should have the right to fair trial.

As she ranted, and Harry explained what had happened, Sal’s face got darker and darker, before he finally shook his head. “We can’t do anything about it just yet, he said. But change will come.”

The rest could only hope that it would be change for the better.

~*~

It wasn’t. Coming back to school lead to the mess at the Quidditch World Cup, which had Helga trying to force her way out of her portrait. It also led to the Triwizard Tournament, which Cedric announced he was entering in.

The night of the drawing, ended with hot chocolate, and six silent students. “I don’t want to compete,” Harry finally said, sounding very small.

Cedric squeezed his shoulder. “I know.”

“I didn’t put my name in the Goblet.”

The twins nodded. “We know.”

“I just wanted a normal year.”

“And it’s fine to want that,” Neville assured him.

“One where I wasn’t terrified. I’m currently terrified.”

Ginny nodded. “I understand.”

Harry looked at all of them. “Thank you.”

~*~

“Theoretically, how would one go about defeating a dragon?”

Cedric choked, and stared at Harry, who was blushing furiously. “Why do you ask?”

“Because that’s the first task. I intend to fly my way out of this, but you deserved to know.”

“Aim for the eyes,” Helga called out. “Blind them!”

“Dragons are beautiful creatures that should not be harmed,” Sal informed them, and Cedric had to hold back a laugh.

“Why do I think he would get along with Hagrid?”

~*~

“I don’t know how to dance.”

“That’s what you’re worried about,” Harry groaned. “I can’t find a date.”

Cedric winced. “Oh man. Granger?”

“Is already going with someone,” Neville shot out, and he entered. “And I’m taking Gin already.”

Ginny grinned, as she followed him in. “Sorry, Har.”

Harry waved her off. “No, it’s fine. He asked you first.”

Ginny shrugged, and then stilled. “I know someone you might be able to take.”

And that was how Harry met Luna Lovegood. She talked to him about Nargles, and Wrackspurts, and Harry thought that she was fascinating, which is how he ended up asking her. She cheerfully agreed, which was wonderful, but then an older Ravenclaw sneered about Loony Lovegood, and Luna bit her lip, hurt by the comment.

And that was how Luna met Rowena Ravenclaw, three days before the ball.

~*~

The second task proved difficult, but Cedric and Harry grilled Helga, who enjoyed fighting things, about what exactly was in the lake. Merpeople was not the answer they wanted.

But the two boys dived anyway, along with Delacour and Krum. They swam together, they fought side by side, and Cedric cut Cho loose. Harry waited, watched as Krum freed Hermione, and finally, he freed Delacour’s sister, and Luna.

~*~

“That was horrible,” Luna managed later on. She was mostly dry, but her hair was still damp, and she was still shivering, as was Harry. Cedric wasn’t much better when he finally came in.

“That was a miserable experience,” he stated, flopping down on the couch. “Thank goodness we’ve only got the one left, yeah?”

Godric shook his head. “I wouldn’t be so sure,” he said. “Based on Harry’s track record of end-of-the-year shenanigans.”

~*~

At the end of the Third Task, despite Godric’s warning, and Harry’s nervousness, they took the cup together. But this time, Cedric was on guard. He ended up unconscious, but thankfully, Harry knew, not dead.

There was a great amount of pain, as Cedric, while not dead, did not appear to be waking up anytime soon, according to Madame Pomfrey. “I’m sorry, dearies,” she told the gathered group. “But I can’t seem to bring him out of it.”

So Cedric remained in a coma, and was transferred to St. Mungo’s.

“I know it could be worse. That he could have died,” Harry tells them later. “But I can still be upset over it.”

Cho Chang seemed to agree with Harry’s statement, because she seemed pained. “I don’t know if he’ll ever wake up,” she told him, one afternoon, at Cedric’s bedside. “I hope he will, of course, but sometimes I wonder.” She sniffed. “I miss him.”

Harry nodded. “I know. I do to.”

~*~

“Neville says that you almost got expelled,” Rowena began.

“There were Dementors,” Harry said. “I cast the patronous to keep them away from my cousin and I. And then I got charged for underage magic, and was tried by a full court. Umbridge was on the court, actually,” He said thoughtfully.

Luna hummed, and Ginny scowled. “She seems perfectly wretched.”

“Maybe not wretched,” Luna said thoughtfully. “But she’s certainly got an infestation of Nargles.”

~*~

Luna had changed her mind in short order. “She’s awful,” the blonde declared. “Absolutely horrible!”

Harry, who was rubbing his hand, glance up. “Yeah, she is. Hermione wants to start a defence association, because she’s so awful.”

Helga hummed. “That actually sounds like a good idea.”

“Speaking of Hermione,” George threw in, “We want to bring her in.”

Harry nodded. “I’ll grab her tomorrow.”

~*~

Hermione was ecstatic to learn that the Founder’s had portraits. She even understood why Harry hadn’t spoken about it. She wasn’t as happy with Luna, who she thought was odd, but they got along well enough. Or, the two of them, and Ginny got along well enough to become well know as an experimental group, that often cause explosions, prompting the Hannah Abbot to mutter something about Radium.

One of the potions blew up in Hermione’s face, and she got a good look at what Luna naturally saw. And promptly apologized to Luna. When she wasn’t working with Harry and the DA, she was trying to replicate that sight on a more permanent basis.

~*~

Every educational decree angered them more. When Umbridge kicked Harry and the twins off the team, Ginny joined up. When the twins left entirely, fed up, the DA took to following their legacies. Bunches of swaps popped in and out of existence throughout the school. Cho and Harry never shared a kiss. They didn’t have to. They did, occasionally, go see Cedric together, but the most that ever happened, involved giving each other hugs and hand squeezes to reassure the other.

~*~

Sirius Black still died in the Veil, at the hands of Bellatrix LeStrange. Dumbledore still fights Voldemort on the atrium floor. There is war on the winds, but no one truly understands that.

~*~

Dumbledore tells Harry about the Horocruxes. Harry, in turn, asks the founders. Sal tells him about dark magic, about soul magic, and about things that should never happen.

Harry isn’t with them that much. When asked, Hermione sighs, and informs them that he’s spying on Malfoy.

Ginny does announce one day that she and Harry have gotten together, but it doesn’t seem to change much.

He does tell them that he’s going with Dumbledore to find one of Voldemort’s Horocruxes. He comes back, they all do really, after the fight.

“Dumbledore’s dead,” Harry says, and while the founder’s aren’t entirely unhappy about this, they fall silent, in respect.

~*~

“Harry and Hermione aren’t coming this year,” Neville says, as he enters. “They’re hunting Horocruxes.”

“And you,” Sal asks shortly. “You’re all at war. What are you going to do?”

The answer is lead a rebellion. Lead the war on the home front. Neville eventually has to go into hiding in the room of requirement. All of the DA does. But he, Luna, and Ginny still visit, in the dark of the night.

When Luna doesn’t come back after Christmas, everyone gets worried, but no one breaks down. No one can. They’re at war.

When the Golden Trio comes back into Hogwarts’ Hallowed Halls, they tell the DA that they’re looking for Ravenclaw’s diadem. No one knows where it is, so Harry sighs, and tells them to focus on the snake.

The war is here. The wizarding world’s soldiers rise up to meet it.

Ginny is supposed to stay in the room. Harry and Luna, who had convinced Helena Ravenclaw to face her mother, know that the diadem is in the Room of Lost Things. Ron and Hermione are grabbing the Basilisk fangs. Luna and Ginny stay with Harry.

Ginny’s the one who finds the diadem. Ginny’s the one who holds it tight, even as she swoops down to save Goyle, while Malfoy rides with Harry. When the group meet’s up with Harry, Basilisk fangs in hand, it’s Ginny who destroys the diadem, once and for all.

(Retribution is hers. Somewhere in Ginny, something lightens. Riddle had killed a part of her, and now she will kill a part of him. He will not touch her anymore.)

The five of them join the fray.

When the fighting stops, finally, Fred’s gone, Percy weeping over him. George’s world looks as though it has just vanished. Remus and Tonks are laying side by side. Lavender Brown’s eye are blank and lifeless. Colin Creevy looks tiny, and Harry’s reminded of a much smaller Colin, laying just as still, just as lifeless. He wishes he could fix this problem.

Harry sacrifices himself, and pretends to be dead. Narcissa Malfoy lies for him.

The Sorting Hat burns, and Harry remembers it’s words from seven years ago, and thinks that maybe the hat was wrong.

Neville pulls the Sword of Gryffindor, a sword that he and Harry have seen many times, in Godric’s garden. Neville kills the snake, and Harry kills Voldemort, and then, rather suddenly, it’s over.

~*~

Weary and worn, the small group of people left in the know, troop up the stairs. The door, miraculously, is intact. Pristine even. Opening it, Harry wants to cry.

The carpet is a magnificent blue, and one that Luna had taken rom the storeroom in Ravenclaw tower. It had the scorch mark that she, Hermione, and Ginny had made several years ago, with help from Rowena. There were the chairs, and the couch, transfigured from broken desk chairs, no longer in use, charmed into different colours, including one particularly garish one that had been Neville’s fault when they were learning colour changing charms, and no one had bothered to reverse it. Various blankets, spread out, some of them bought, and some of them made by Hermione, in her quest for knitting. And the portraits, all four of them, looking curiously at the group, hope evident in their eyes.

“We won,” Harry told them, sinking into the couch. “We won.”

They smiled down at him, but they knew the cost of war. There are some things that can’t be brought back.

 

~*~

The door creaks open. A fire immediately lights up in the fireplace. Four portraits awake, for the first time in nineteen years. “Hello? Is there anyone here?”

“Who are you,” a man asks, and a boy with black hair, and emerald eyes steps forward, firelight glinting on his glasses.

“I’m Al Potter. My Dad told me to find you, and say hi.”

**Author's Note:**

> Oh boy. Where do I even start.
> 
> Well, first off, I own nothing.
> 
> Second off, I'm glad I finally wrote this. All of it. And this wasn't everything that could have made it in; the planning for this story was massive. In fact Crystallea1321 came up with quite a bit of the idea for this whole thing. Dearie, thank you so much, I had tons of fun writing this. And no, not everything fit.
> 
> Oh man. If people want to see what didn't make it, check out the comment thread on my story La Vie en Rose. I'm telling you, there was so much stuff to work with.
> 
> That being said. Because I couldn't fit everything into one story, This will probably become the first of a series, with much smaller stories that flesh out some of those other ideas. Including the one with Tom being yelled at by Sal.
> 
> Okay, I think that wraps everything up. I'm taking requests, for almost all of my other series', so shoot something my way, I'll see what I can do!
> 
> Comments are wonderful. Flames will be used to help Ginny destroy the Diadem!
> 
> ~ Rose


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